Pyre
by Her Sweetness
Summary: [Oneshot] No blanket can undo what he did.


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— Pyre —

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_There is something behind me._

_I know there is. I can feel It behind me. Think It's going to get me?_

_Or will It leave me alone?_

He's walking faster and his footprints in the snow begin to slide together, two lines following him as he continues away from the tiny neighborhood. In the winter the snow is falling and it covers the ground, one big beautiful blanket, no dry, grassy patches, this blanket is large and white but he trudges through it.

(They turned at the same time.)

He does not want to slow his pace but he does not want to draw attention to himself by going fast. He is walking at a good pace but he is still dragging his feet in the blanket, making those two lines. They might follow those lines, he should not be making them.

He does not want people to know it was him.

_If I turn around what will I see?_

_I can feel hot breath, I can hear hisses and crackles. Teeth clicking?_

_But what will I see? Can you tell me?_

The woods just beyond this field are coming closer to him. They were far off when he started but now they are close and he thinks it is funny how his tiny feet can take him somewhere new and how he can do things all on his own. He did a lot of things on his own today. Just like his Daddy told him when he came home. He was going to be a man someday and he should learn to do things for himself.

He wanted to please Daddy and he did things for himself. He took out the trash, he swept the floors, he walked to school and he let the big boys hurt him on his way home so they would not be mean to his family. He took care of things like a man should.

(The screaming started soon.)

Fresh snow is falling. But it is almost as if his hair was always a piece of the blanket, torn off from when he was born. Fresh snow falls and thickens the blanket but he knows that not even the snow can cover what he did. No blanket can undo what he did. He walks faster when the soft air becomes polluted with the sounds of large engines off in the distance, sirens.

_It is getting bigger._

_I am scared to turn around, what will I see when I look at It?_

_Why won't you tell me? Mommy? Why won't you tell me?_

The houses surrounding are getting smaller as he continues to move, this small little dot in the snow, the red designs on his winter coat are the only color on the blanket. But through the falling snow comes engines, engines redder than his coat and he will not look at them. He will not look back at It. He continues and so do his lines, they follow him and the woods are so close. The snow will hide him from everyone else, all he must do is keep shuffling.

(It was locked, it was locked.)

His Mommy would not like how he is dressed. It is so cold but he only has one coat on. His little red coat. But that is okay, he does not need more than this. He must keep walking but he does not need more than this. More than what is in his pocket. He shuffles foreword and his had drifts into his pocket. He has no mittens on, his hand is in his pocket to keep it warm. Or is it to feel the comfort of the book of matches?

The engines are so loud now and he wants to cover his ears but he must not draw attention to himself, he must keep shuffling, he must continue to do what needs to be done. Daddy said so. Mommy would be proud of him. Her Little Man is walking in the snow and he is not covering his ears from the horrible sounds that want to get him.

(Can't get out, can't get out.)

_I want to turn around now._

_I want to turn around now._

_Mommy. Daddy. I love you and I did what needed to be done. I am a Little Man._

The woods are here and he takes his hand out of his pocket. He stretches his arm out right in front of him and the first tree of the forest is in front of him. His hand is not touching it. His hand wants to touch it. Two more inches now, Little Man. The fresh snow is falling and those engines are loud and the fresh snow is covering him but it is not covering what he has done.

His hand is going to touch the tree. But it stops and the tree is screaming for him to touch it. But he will not and he is frozen and the snow continues to fall around him and he is being covered. Cannot cover what has been done, Mommy. He is a Little Man, Daddy.

His brown eyes are wide and the snow is going to freeze the water if he lets the water fall. He is starring at the tree and the tree is screaming and he cannot say anything. His mouth is open. Pale face is gasping and the water will freeze soon, Little Man. You must not do this, Little Man, he must touch the tree but he does not and he turns around.

_Why isn't It getting me, Mommy?_

_Why has It taken you, Daddy?_

_I love you, Mommy. I love you, Daddy. So, why? Why? Why…?_

(And they all died in the fire I started.)

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— Owari —

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Her Sweetness: Review, please. Incase you have not guessed, this was Ryou at age 5 or 6. 


End file.
